


Good Taste

by philos_manthanein



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philos_manthanein/pseuds/philos_manthanein
Summary: Eddie just wants a normal breakfast.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote
Comments: 9
Kudos: 135





	Good Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoriarTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoriarTea/gifts).



Eddie wants breakfast. Like, a _proper_ breakfast. He’s got money now - not Kennedy or Kardashian kinds of money, no, but at least he no longer has to eat pizza rolls as a meal if he doesn’t want to. So he wants a good, hot, homemade breakfast. Just like mama woulda made (probably, he likes to think anyway).

Thing is… _Venom._

“Ah, today we feast upon the unborn.” His symbiote’s comment rumbles across his brain; it sounds hungry, but Venom always sounds hungry.

“I mean, you’re technically not wrong but do ya gotta say it like that man?” Eddie complains as he cracks open a second egg and plops it into the frying pan.

“Why do we not eat the eggs whole?” Venom blatantly doesn’t care about Eddie’s discomfort.

“Y’see, there’s this salmonella thing-”

“I would not allow you to get sick, Eddie.”

Eddie sighs. He knows that’s true, at least. Eddie hasn’t had a cold or a flu or even allergies since the world’s weirdest roommate moved into his body. Still.

“I just like ‘em cooked, okay?” He shrugs and attempts to flip one - over-easy style - but the yolk breaks and starts leaking threateningly across the pan toward the other egg. “Shit.”

“You fucked it up.” Venom supplies unhelpfully.

“Yeah, I see that.”

Breakfast isn’t going as well as Eddie hoped. He’s not gonna let it go to waste, but damn. When the eggs are okayish, he scoops them out onto a plate, next to the strips of bacon he’d fried up first. (Little bit burned, but he just calls them “extra crispy”.) Lastly, he waits for his toast to, well, toast. Venom tries to jab at Eddie for burning that as well, but forgets what “pre-toasted toast” is called and ends up making Eddie laugh again.

Eddie laughs a lot these days, mostly because of Venom’s bullshit. It’s hard to tell if Venom does that on purpose sometimes, or if he’s just that much of a dumbass. Well, Eddie’s a dumbass, too. It’s what makes them a perfect match, right?

He sits at his dinky little dining table in his dinky little apartment, setting his plate down with one hand and his coffee down with the other. San Francisco is overcast this morning, so the light bleeding through his window is soft and grey. It’s nice. Eddie picks up his fork.

“Allow me.” Venom rumbles and Eddie can feel him bubbling through the skin of his hand and forearm.

That’s one thing he’ll never quite get used to: how Venom just _schlorps_ himself in and out of Eddie’s body like that. It’s fucking weird. (Literally in a way, when sex is involved, but that’s another story.)

Venom takes control of Eddie’s hand and lifts the fork toward his mouth. Eddie snorts out a laugh.

“You’re stupid.” Eddie chuckles, but he takes the bite anyway.

“It’s romantic, is it not?” Venom’s voice inclines curiously and there he goes sticking his inky, gloopy face out of Eddie to slither through the air to face him.

“Outside looking in? Probably not.” Eddie says around his mouthful of not-quite-over-easy eggs.

“But I am inside looking out. So I say it _is_ romantic.” Venom insists.

And Eddie just _can’t_ argue. ‘Cause, yeah, it’s sweet in a very strange and Venom-y way. The way Eddie’s grown intimately comfortable with his symbiote’s curiosity and odd way he sees the world. Venom doesn’t think there’s anything particularly problematic with the way they love each other. And Eddie _does_ believe Venom loves him back.

So Eddie swallows his food and leans over to plant a kiss against what is approximately Venom’s cheek. Venom rumbles happily. (It’s a _purr_ \- Eddie will die on the “Venom purrs” hill no matter how much they argue about it.) His alien-tar encapsulated hand moves up, this time with a strip of bacon, and Eddie obediently takes a bite.

Yeah, homemade breakfast is the best.


End file.
